


The Dream (I Never Dreamed At All)

by Doodsxd



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Apologies, Attempt at Humor, Billy Hargrove & Maxine "Max" Mayfield Bonding, Billy Hargrove Has a Crush on Steve Harrington, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Cough Syrup, Dry Humping, Explicit Sexual Content, Fever, Funny, Gay Billy Hargrove, Groping, Hand Jobs, Internalized Homophobia, Light Angst, M/M, Miscommunication, Pining, Random & Short, School, Short & Sweet, Sick Character, Sick Steve Harrington, Soft Billy Hargrove, Steve Harrington Has a Crush on Billy Hargrove, perceived consent issues, wrongly perceived
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:55:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22425916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doodsxd/pseuds/Doodsxd
Summary: Steve woke up that morning feeling a little… queasy. He wasn’t sure what was happening, so he just took his flu meds and got into his car. After all, he had school, and things to do, and people to see, so. He got inside his car and just… went.If he knew, though, he probably wouldn’t have entered his car.Just… probably.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Comments: 16
Kudos: 329





	The Dream (I Never Dreamed At All)

**The dream (I never dreamed at all)**

Steve woke up that morning feeling a little… queasy. He wasn’t sure what was happening, so he just took his flu meds and got into his car. After all, he had school, and things to do, and people to see, so. He got inside his car and just… went. 

If he knew, though, he probably wouldn’t have entered his car. 

Just… probably. 

___________________________________________________________________________

Billy had been in lit class - advanced, God help him if anybody else knew that - when the little sound box across the classroom made the static-y noise it always did before a transmission. 

“Mr. Hargrove, please, report to the principal’s Office. Mr. Hargrove, please, report to the principal’s office.” 

Trying to think back to what was going on, what could he have possibly done - last beating hadn’t even left his skin yet, he tended to be careful after one of those - and barely noticed the way to the office. 

“Billy Hargrove,” He told the secretary, who nodded. 

“Yes, your sister asked us to call. She says she is sick and just wants you to get her home. Her mother is not answering our calls, so we are making an exception.” She gave him a pass. “Just show this to your teacher when you come back, it’s fine.” 

BIlly thought it was weird, but nodded anyway. “Alright. She at the infirmary?” 

“Yes, dear.” She told him. “You’re a good brother.” Her smile was entirely too big. “Now chop chop, honey, I hear she has a fever.” 

Cursing his luck, Billy made his way to the infirmary when he was pulled into a janitor’s closet by arms that were entirely too skinny to be that strong. 

“Billy,” 

“ _ Fuck _ , Maxine!” He growled. “What are you doing here? They told me you have a fever-”

“Well, I don’t.” She quickly put his hand over her forehead. Warm, but normal warm. “I have another problem.”

“I swear to God, if you called me here to buy you  _ tampons _ or somethin’-”

“No, it’s not that.” She worried over her lower lip. “I need somebody strong. Like, physically strong.” 

Something perked in Billy’s ear. “Why, exactly?” 

“Hm.” The redhead hesitated. “It’s Steve.” 

________________________________________________________________________

“When you told me he was high, I didn’t think it would be like this.” Billy told her, a cigarette on his lips, because how else was he supposed to cope with a Steve Harrington like that? 

He wasn’t  _ high _ , per se, and of course none of those dumb kids would be able to recognize it. He looked half sick, half doped on something, probably cold medicine, asleep against the wall on the outside of the gym. 

“Well, he’s clearly not himself.” Sinclair pointed out, looking at Steve too. 

“Will you do it?” Maxine looked urgent, dramatic, like always. “You just carry him to his car and I’ll drive him to his home-”

“Whoa, whoa, stop right there,” That girl was gonna give him a  _ headache _ , honestly. “You ain’t driving  _ shit _ , Maxine, least of all Harrington’s beemer, are you  _ insane? _ ”

“ _ Somebody _ ’s gotta take him home!” Wheeler boy pointed out. 

“Well,” he looked from Harrington to the kids, and then back. “I have a license.”

“No way!”

“No!”

“You’re not getting into Steve’s  _ car _ , let alone his  _ house! _ ” The chorus of complaints continued. 

“Yeah, well, how do you geniuses figure you’ll get Harrington  _ from  _ his car  _ into _ his house?” 

“We’ll find a way!” Henderson was the most annoying (and protective, he would say), of them all. 

Billy rubbed his forehead with his fingers. “Look, I’m  _ actually _ trying to help here. Maxine, you still have that crazy bat from last time?” Billy asked her, and she looked at Henderson, who nodded, making her nod too in consequence. “Then you keep that stuff in your hands if you want to. I’m not letting you guys alone in a car that  _ none  _ of you have a licence to drive, with a sick person to carry. That’s not happening.”

He waited a moment while they talked to each other without saying anything. Billy always wanted to be able to do shit like that with someone, but nobody ever got close enough to that. 

Finally, it was Henderson who spoke. “Alright. But if you try any funny business-”

“You’ll castrate me and feed me my balls, yeah, whatever,” Billy rolled his eyes and ducked to get Harrington in his arms. He contemplated holding him over his shoulder like a caveman, but that would definitely grab some unwanted attention, so. 

Bride style it was. 

The idiots went first, looking over and over if the path was clear for them. Billy followed, hearing Harrington mumbling something against his neck, making him shiver. Which. Normal, okay? Just a physical reaction. 

“Yousmellgood,” Harrington’s eyes opened to slits, but he was clearly not in control of anything. “Youresopretty.”

“We’re getting you home, Harrington,” He said simply, voice going  _ way _ softer than he meant it too. But honestly, who would blame him? Harrington was in his arms, all warm and soft and vulnerably and  _ stupid _ , saying those things to him in that  _ stupid _ sleepy voice of his. He was a  _ hero _ for containing himself, goddamn it. 

“PrettyBillyPrettyBilly,” Harrington was smiling, and then chuckling against his skin. 

“You’re high, Harrington, shut up.” Billy hissed. 

They finally got to the car, Henderson opened it and he placed Harrington on the passenger seat because it was the closest. The car wouldn’t fit all of them, so Wheeler volunteered to stay behind, leaving him with Max, Henderson, Sinclair and Byers. 

And Max, just as said, had the bat on her hands, just waiting. 

“Any of you brats know where is Harrington’s house?” He asked, taking a moment to caress that beauty’s wheel. Hot damn, that was a fine car. 

“I know.” Henderson said. 

“Good, then you’re guiding me.” He turned the engine on and Henderson blabbed on the best way to go, even discussing with Sinclair the merits of taking Main Street near lunchtime, or taking another road Billy never even  _ heard  _ of. 

“Taking the Main at lunchtime is  _ insane _ , Dustin! Everyone by the precinct  _ and _ the firefighters  _ and  _ the City Hall goes to lunch  _ at the same time! _ It’ll be a mess!”

“But the road you’re saying goes through the  _ woods _ , Lucas, the  _ woods _ ! What if we get lost and never get Steve home in time?!”

But all Billy could pay attention to was what startled him - a hand on his thigh, more precisely. Billy said nothing, but he was stiff as a board when it started moving up, Harrington getting closer and closer to his crotch. 

“ _ Pretty Billy _ ,” He crooned, voice thankfully low as his throat sounded raspy, almost painful. Harrington’s head came to rest on Billy’s shoulder, and it was hard paying attention to the road. “ _ So pretty _ ,” 

“Harrington, go back to your seat.” Billy’s voice trembled, the traitor. 

The other boy hummed. “You keep calling  _ me _ pretty boy, but you’re  _ so pretty _ . Like an angel,” His smile was completely drugged, but damn if those doe-eyes didn’t get to him like a spear to the heart. 

“Fuck, Harrington, someone’s gonna stop us!” He was nervous and it wasn’t  _ all _ the peril of being stopped, but, like, half of it was a very healthy fear of popping a boner inside a car filled with stupid  _ teenagers _ . 

“What’s going on there?” The brats seemed to finally stop arguing to pay attention to him, and wasn’t that  _ convenient _ ? 

“Hey, Hargrove, stop that!” Henderson started to freak out. “Stop taking advantage of Steve!” 

“Stop  _ screaming _ , Dustin, he’s not  _ doing _ anything,” It was Max, surprisingly, who came to his aid. “It’s Steve. He’s high on something.” 

“‘m not  _ high _ ,” Harrington protested, turning to face the brats, looking like he was drunk off his ass. “Billy’s just  _ real pretty _ , right, Billy?” A flush was starting to burn Billy’s cheeks as Harrington nosed his neck like a cat, hand coming to rest to his lower belly, under his shirt, as he cuddled Billy as well as he could over the damn stick of the car. 

“What did you  _ do _ to him?” Henderson was bordering hysterical. 

“Stop, Dustin!” Sinclair threw his arms out. “Billy’s not even  _ saying _ anything! This is all Steve and whatever the hell he took!”

“He took too much of cough medicine.” Billy announced, swallowing dry, Harrington’s hand advancing towards his crotch. Fuck, where was that boy’s house anyway? “Did that once by accident. He’ll be fine, he just needs some water and sleep.” 

“We’re here!” Henderson said as they stopped in front of a  _ huge _ house, and fuck him, Billy felt like a street rat entering a mansion. “Park by the front door so no one will see us.” 

He waited for Henderson to open the front door with his key - Billy wondered if Harrington was in his right mind, because he would  _ never, ever _ give that brat a key to his anything, - and got Harrington in his arms again to put him to bed, but  _ fuck _ , he was awake and  _ grabby _ now. 

“Jesus, Steve, what the hell!” Henderson complained as Byers giggled and Max stifled a laugh, and Billy’s cheeks were on  _ fire _ because Harrington’s hand was on his  _ ass _ ,  _ squeezing _ , fuck his life. 

“Shh, ‘m asleep.” Harrington slurred, tucking his face to Billy’s neck again. “If I’m awake Billy won’t carry me.” 

“In here,” Lucas, thanks the boy’s good sense, guided Billy to Steve’s bedroom. 

Billy went in, barely looking around as he placed the boy on his bed and  _ moved- _

_ -but  _ not much, since Harrington got his arms around him in a surprisingly strong hold, tumbling him onto the bed right before crawling over his body. 

Even strong as he was, Billy couldn’t move. He had no purchase; the bed too soft, Harrington too heavy and holding him down, sleepy head on his chest. 

“Help me!” He hissed to the brats, who were all laughing by Steve’s door. “I can’t get out of here.”

“Hm, I think not.” Maxine giggled. 

“ _ Maxine _ -” He growled warningly. If that little shithead-

“Just… let him sleep.” Sinclair asked, wincing, but like the others, barely containing his laughter. “We’ll come back to check on you in half an hour, okay?” 

“No, you fuckers, don’t leave me here, don’t-!” They shut the door anyway, leaving him alone with Harrington. 

“What if he kills Steve in his sleep?” He could still hear the dumbass Henderson hiss muffled through the wall. 

“Nah.” Sinclair answered. “If he would hit Steve for it, he would have done it when he grabbed his ass. He’s fine.” 

“Does Steve has ice cream?” Byers, his favorite, the little traitor Byers, asked, and the next thing Billy heard was their feet hitting the stairs like bowling balls. 

He shut his eyes and opened them again, wondering if he was dreaming. But no; he was still there, still engulfed by a very sleepy Harrington, who was fucking breathing against his fucking neck and making it fucking hard to  _ think _ , damn it. 

But the bedroom was half-lit, the bed was soft, and it smelled like Harrington, and he never slept well in his own room because he was always wary of Neil and his middle of the night  _ moods _ , so. 

He fell asleep, too.

_________________________________________________________________________

There was a mouth on his jaw. 

There was a mouth kissing, sucking, nibbling his jaw and his neck, hands going up and down his chest, and something he recognized as a soft, firm, warm  _ ass _ sitting on his hips. 

“What the-?” 

“Shh,” Harrington told him, hands flickering over Billy’s nipples, getting him to gasp. “Shh, I’m gonna take care of you.” 

“Harrington, what’s-?” He tried to stop the other boy, but his lips locked around Billy’s nipple, every nerve shooting up to attention at the caress. 

“Shh, hey, don’t fuck up my dream.” He asked, magic lips going to suck over Billy’s pulse. “I’m lucid dreaming and I’m going to enjoy the  _ fuck _ outta that-” 

“Harrington, Harrington, you’re not-” He tried to say but, once again, a hand slid underneath his pants, cupping him, squeezing his cock  _ just right _ to make his eyes flutter and a moan rip from deep his guts. 

“Why else would you be in my bed?” Harrington touched his forehead to Billy’s neck and  _ fuck _ , he most  _ definitely _ had a fever. He was delusional. Just what Billy needed. 

The guy’s hand didn’t stop, though, stroking Billy, while he humped Billy’s thigh shamelessly, and Billy  _ never _ seen somebody move like that, never seen anything so hot in his life, the curve that Steve’s spine was making in relation to his pert ass was an impossible arch but  _ fuck _ if he didn’t look hella good doing that, humping his thigh like a desperate bitch while  _ he  _ was the one who was about to shoot his load after a bit of fumbling. 

“You’re so  _ hot _ ,” Steve said against his neck, biting it, and that was gonna leave a mark, but Billy couldn’t help but burst in nervous giggle. 

“Fuck, Harrington, you’re insane-” He gasped again, spine arching, lifting his thigh to make for more pressure, make him moan, that beautiful sound that Billy was yet to heard. 

And he was not disappointed. Steve’s face flushed and he threw his head back, and Billy decided to move his leg, make Steve  _ ride _ it, and  _ fuck _ he looked blissed out like that, one of those martyr paintings that  _ always _ looked like they were having the fucking time of their lives, but his wrist never stopped inside BIlly’s pants, if anything it went harder and stronger and  _ faster _ , and all it took for him to tip over was seeing  _ Harrington _ tip over in his pants while  _ riding Billy’s thigh _ , and that vision would be  _ branded _ to his  _ brain _ for  _ all eternity _ , no doubt, but Billy would die  _ happily _ if that was the sight going on behind his eyes when he went. 

And then they were both panting, and Harrington fell to Billy’s side, immediately octopusing around Billy again. He should go clean himself up, he should get out of that bed and run, he shouldn’t cuddle up to a feverish Harrington as he seemed so adamant on doing, but. 

But. 

Billy fell asleep. 

___________________________________________________________________________

He woke up from a sleep like, apparently, he never had before. Harrington was still asleep, but his old on Billy had softened after everything, so he was finally able to slip out. 

When he did, though, he felt immediately cold. And going outside was clearly a mistake, even after the much needed wash up in the bathroom, because he completely forgot the fucking  _ hickey  _ he had on his neck, not to mention the bite marks, and there was no hiding that because the shirt underneath his jean vest had no working buttons. 

He blushed as soon as Sinclair and Max’s eyes landed on the marks. “I’m going home. I trust you guys know your way around the house, and can skate or bike back home?”

“We can borrow one of Steve’s bikes. He won’t mind.” Little Byers assured him calmly. 

“Okay. I’m going, then.” Head down, Billy went forward through the doors, but just before he passed them, Max’s voice stopped him. 

“Billy,” She called, voice uncharacteristically worried. “Will you be OK?” 

He let his shoulders relax a bit, but it was all for show. “Yeah, shitheat.” He was gonna walk home, fuck life. “When am I ever not?” 

_______________________________________________________________________

He was not okay. He was not even  _ close _ to okay. He had  _ gay sex _ with  _ fever dreaming _ Steve Harrington, former keg King of Hawkins. 

There were so many wrong things with what happened.  _ So many _ . First that Harrington wasn’t in his right mind, and that twisted Billy’s guts into knots, guilt hurting and hurting and  _ hurting _ . He should have never done that, should have stopped Steve before he could  _ ever _ get his hands on him. But he had been weak, and now… 

Now he took advantage of Harrington, who could tell anyone. And Neil would know. Worse, even: he could make a police report against Billy for rape and deviant behavior and God knew what else. Either way, prison or Neil’s fists, he was dead. Completely and utterly dead. 

______________________________________________________________________

It took a couple of days, but Harrington found him in the bleachers after he refused to play. He wasn’t going to go to detention - the coach liked him way too much - but he was also  _ not _ skipping period entirely. 

“Kids told me what you did.” Oh, good. He wasn’t going to beat around the bush. 

Billy said nothing. Just waited for the other shoe to drop. 

“I also realise… I did some…  _ inappropriate _ things.” Harrington was blushing, and his hands went through his hair, and  _ fuck it _ Billy wanted to  _ pull _ those strands just to see if he liked it. 

“Dunno what you’re talking about.” Billy answered gruffly, hands itching for a cigarette. 

“Billy.” He sat beside him, elbows on his knees, “I remember.” 

…  _ what _ ? He stayed silent for a minute there. “You gonna report me, Harrington?” He asked nonchalantly, as if it didn’t matter. As if his destiny wasn’t sealed by those tiny words. 

“What? No!” He shook his head. “No! I just wanted to apologize. I was out of my mind with fever and cold medicine and I didn’t give you much of a chance to say  _ no _ so-”

“You just said it, you were with a fever and high on cough syrup, Harrington.” Billy answered mildly. “Wasn’t your fault.”

Silence established itself between them while Harrington worked it out. 

“Wait. Wait.” He put a hand on Billy’s forearm, which he fought off rudely. “Wasn’t your fault either, Billy.” 

“I wasn’t with a fever, neither did I take any medicine.” He answered between his teeth. “Sure as hell was conscious there, pretty boy.” 

“Billy-” 

“Just-” Billy once again fought Steve’s hand, standing up. “Don’t… don’t assume that  _ all _ people like me would do somethin’ like that, alright?” He asked, and he didn’t know why he felt the urge to, but it  _ hurt _ . It  _ hurt _ , to be part of a group with such a bad reputation that grew from absolutely  _ nothing _ because the  _ greeks  _ and the  _ romans _ would have so  _ goddamn much _ to talk about it all, but apparently only Christ could kiss another man on the lips and go away being a hero. 

“Not all of us do that stuff. I was weak, and I’m feeling guilt like I  _ never _ felt before in my whole life, so you don’t gotta worry ‘bout something like that happening again, but, really-” He took a nervous breath. “It was just be who was weak. Other people, even when they’re like me, they’re not like that, you can’t take everybody for what I did-”

“ _ Billy _ ,” Harrington looked serious now, placing both hands on his shoulders. “ _ Breathe _ .” 

He did, and once he could focus again, the weight of Harrington’s hands on his shoulders the only thing preventing him from bursting into air, he realised that… the other boy didn’t seem angry. At all. 

What the fuck?

“Why aren’t you punching me?” He asked, swallowing dry. 

“What?” Harrington asked, but then his eyes moved to the side and back. “Quick. Put your hands on my wrists to look like you’re fighting me off.” 

Billy did it - of course Steve didn’t wanna be seen  _ fraternizing _ with a faggot - and soon enough the coach was there, separating what never actually begun. 

“Both of you, showers and class! I don’t wanna see you around here anymore!” The man bellowed his two favorite players. Anyone else would have detention, but not Billy, and certainly not Harrington. 

Steve was looking at him as they went, though, and what was up with that? 

As soon as the locker room’s door was shut, Billy was pressed to the wall, hands on his chest, and he prepared for a well deserved blow. 

Harrington kissed him. 

His lips felt  _ amazing _ . 

“I thought I was dreaming _ again _ , you have any idea how frustrating that is?” He asked Billy after biting his fucking lip, Jesus H. Christ he was gonna pop a boner right in the spot. 

“What?” His brain was struggling to get into gear with all the blood rushing south. “Again?” 

“Anyone over fifteen thought about you at least once or twice in this whole town, I swear to fucking God,” Steve’s hands found their way underneath his shirt, feeling him up, and he was  _ so _ down for that. 

“You sick again, Harrington?” He asked, but it turned into a moan cause Harrington was flicking his nipple again, same as he did in his house, and what the fuck was up with that, honestly, “Have a fever?” 

“I’m one hundred percent fine, thanks to you,” Steve finally stopped, looking Billy right in the eye. “Now that I know my fucking  _ crush _ , because I have a  _ crush _ like a twelve-year-old  _ girl _ , Hargrove, that’s what you did to me, you asshole,” He pinched a nipple, making Billy groan. “Now that I know my  _ crush _ isn’t one sided, even better.” 

His chest tightened at that, so he held Steve’ shands, cause he needed some  _ blood  _ on his  _ brain _ to think, thank you very much, “I beat you up last year.” He said, confused. “I was an asshole to you the whole year.”

“You were pulling my pigtails, don’t pretend it was anything else.” Steve accused, and, well, fair, “And you apologized.”

He didn’t remember that. “I did?” 

“You were drunk off your ass, which is how I know it was honest,” Steve explained. “You told me everything. About your mom, your dad. You even cried, man.” 

“Did  _ not _ ,” Billy countered, flashes of memory of something he thought was a  _ nightmare _ going on behind his eyes. “Oh  _ fuck _ . Tommy’s house.”

“Yeah.” Steve smiled fondly, cupping Billy’s face. “You meant it, right?” 

He licked his lips. “Sober I’d probably be less dramatic, but… yeah. I meant it.” He said, honest. “I’m sorry.” 

“You just started spewing your story to me and all I could think was  _ fuck _ , Billy’s so  _ strong _ . I mean, no wonder you’re a little messed up, but  _ hey!  _ so am I. Doesn’t matter.” He pressed his lips to Billy’s again, just a soft press. “I wanted to wipe out that whole house just so we could be alone there. It felt  _ wrong _ , to have you that vulnerable around other people.” 

Billy licked the remains of Steve’s taste from his lips, watching as the other boy’s pupils blew out at the motion. “Only for you, pretty boy,” 

“You’re giving me a pavlovian response to that nickname, man,” Steve warned him, making Billy smile. 

“Been trying to do that ever since I put my eyes on you.” He confessed, making Steve smile back. 

“Well, you succeeded.” He pressed his semi to Billy’s thigh before taking a whole step back. “My house is empty this week. You should come around.” 

_ Damn _ . His whole body  _ ached _ for more contact. “You sure about that, pretty boy? We don’t gotta-”

“Oh  _ yes _ , we gotta,” Steve’s eyes were  _ hungry _ over him. “No cough syrup, so you know I’m for real.” 

Billy straightened himself up, fixed his clothes, and winked. “Can’t wait, pretty boy.” His heart was going to burst into his chest, and he’s never been so excited in his whole goddamn  _ life _ . “Can’t wait.” 

____________________________________________________________________

  
  



End file.
